“Can you believe that our Catherine will be sixteen next year? I feel ancient. Do you, James?”
“Mary, I have felt ancient ever since she was born. When children arrive youth goes out the window. Isn’t that what you’ve always told me?” laughed James.
“Aye, it is, and speaking of children, I have some news for you,” said Mary. “We are soon to have another one,” she continued eating as if she had just made a remark about the weather.
James pushed his plate away and looked across the table. He had been enjoying the peace and quiet of a Sunday afternoon alone in the house with his wife, a rare occurrence. What he had eaten of the fine meal Mary had prepared for them began to feel like a lump of lead in his stomach.
“You don’t look overly pleased about it, James.”
“I’m not, Mary. Look what happened the last time you were with child, or should I say children?”
“Well, nothing is going to happen to this wee one. I’m going home, James, and don’t try to stop me. I have been away long enough without even one visit back. Do you realize it has been more than three years since we laid eyes on your sister Maggie? I’ll take Mary-Anne and Brigid with me. The air in Blackrock will do us all the power of good. Sure even the gentry take a trip there for the sea air and salt baths? We can stay with Maggie at Kitty Carroll’s. Her daughter, Eliza is a good midwife, didn’t she learned from the best? Between the three of them I will be treated like a queen and you can’t get much safer than that.”
Having recovered from the shock of hearing there would be an extra mouth to feed, James pulled his plate back towards him and began to eat once more.
“We may tell Mary-Anne tonight so, it will give her something to look forward to. When do you plan on going?” he asked, his mouth full.
“As soon as I can afford to. When do you think that may be?” replied Mary.
James took his time reckoning in his head what their savings amounted to. It didn’t take too long, as he knew it wasn’t very much.
“I suppose we could get the fare together over the next two months. Is that quick enough for you?”
Mary stood up to clear the table and spoke as she lifted their plates, “No, James, that will not be soon enough. I want to make sure this baby has the best chance I can give it, but I’m beginning to feel the same sickness I had the last time and I fear the air here is too thick for me to breathe. All I need is the fare until you are able to send over some money for our keep.
James stood behind Mary as she emptied some scraps into a bowl, for the hens they kept in their small back yard. Circling his arms around her soon-to-be expanded waistline, he nuzzled his face into the loose bun on the nape of her neck. Mary stopped moving and leaned back into him. They stood like statues, both of them savouring the moment. James was reminded of those times in the early days of their marriage, before the children came along. Mary would have led him to their bed, teasing and tormenting him before finally melting into his arms, bringing them both to a place they had not been to in a long time. “Too long,” thought James.
“I miss those early years, Mary. Don’t you?” he whispered.
Mary tried to speak but her words just gathered in the back of her throat. Instead, she nodded her head, carefully lowering the plate she was holding. Turning around to kiss her husband’s clean shaven face, she replied, “I miss your fisherman’s beard, James. Don’t you?”
“Sometimes, but it’s far too hot in the foundry to be covering up my face with hair,” he kissed her on the forehead and mentally rebuked himself for being so selfish in wanting to take her up to bed. He feared that Mary’s condition was far too delicate and she would not want to risk harming the baby.
“I think I should go upstairs and lie down for a while, before the children arrive back from their picnic with Catherine. Will you come with me, James?” Mary had a glint in her eye.
“Are you teasing me now? I fear the child might come to some harm,” said James.
“That is no more risk to the baby than when I haul your dirty work clothes to be washed and scrubbed every Saturday. Or do you have a mind to do your own laundry?” Mary laughed.
“Do you think Catherine is going to do it when you and Mary-Anne are across the water? I might as well start practicing now,” he said.
“That girl doesn’t even wash her own clothes, never mind yours. Well now, you will all just have to make do without me, won’t you?” Mary was still in James’s arms and poked him in the chest as she spoke.
“So, where you teasing me then?” James asked.
Mary twisted free from his embrace and was about to say something when the children burst noisily through the door.
“It was starting to look like rain, so we came back early,” said Thomas, “And we’re still hungry.”